Steps
by deaudle
Summary: Each step she took changed her life forever. Bringing her farther from what she knew to a future she never imagined possible.
1. Chapter 1

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

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_I know it has been a while. I hope you like this. Drop me a line and let me know._

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"It was just another step one small step at that and I would be done. The pain the emptiness would be over. " That's was what had driven her here past midnight on the first day of the New Year. The idea of another agonizing year of pain and grief was too much. She needed it to end now.

No one would ever know; she along with her constant companion of pain would be gone.

She looked around the darkness and silence worked in tandem to make everything seem less real. She would just slink away. Slink away? Suddenly the idea of slinking seemed preposterous. She had never slinked in her life, she was outspoken and willing to face her critics, slinking was defiantly not her! Yet she was slinking, was the next step the step of a coward?

The idea of being a coward rankled her. She was not a coward. But as she took a deep breath all of her courage seemed a distant memory. The choice of living a tortured existence or peace was hinged on her next step.

It was a small step, more of a shift, a lean forward, a small movement, not even enough to cause her feet to move. Then her worries would be gone, never again having to face the accusations and anger. It was simple she had a choice and her choice was peace.

The darkness, the unknown was an acceptable alterative to this life. This life was not for her, she was ready.

Just as her shoulders moved toward the rippling curtain, she felt the small flutter. The tiny bubbles that if she hadn't been so focused she would have missed, never noticed.

The entire universe zeroed into that pinpoint of time with a nanosecond of complete clarity. Her universe was altered, changed forever. She had felt the flutter and would never be the same.

Her body was still leaning forward, but she knew she couldn't, no didn't want that now. She needed to think about this. Her hands instinctively cradled her abdomen, protecting the innocent was a powerful motivator; she needed time.

As her arms moved forward, the edge of her sleeve slipped past the edge of the curtain. Pulling back to step away, she felt her robe being forcibly pulled. Using the overwhelming desire to protect, she yanked her arm back and as her sleeve emerged from the opening, she saw the pale tattooed fingers that had a grip of her robe.

The fingers seemed desperate not to lose their grasp, they fought to remain attached. Not knowing why, she reached her hand toward the ghostly, driven fingers. A spark pulsed between the hands. Her fingers work hard to find a hold on the wrist and when she a grasp she pulled hard.

The hard surface that crashed into her back came as a surprise. She realized she had fallen and when she opened her eyes the room looked the same. Nothing seemed out of place and taking a moment to feel she knew she hadn't broken any bones. The only sensation that seemed wrong was the squeezing on her wrist.

Turning to look she saw the hand that was still holding her wrist and that the hand was attached to an excruciatingly thin person lying next to her. The dark curly hair and faded tattoos on the arms seemed familiar.

The fluttering caught her attention again and she smiled for the first time in four months. The idea of happiness leaked through a small crack in her shattered heart. The smallest of smile grew as she once again glimpsed the possibility of tomorrow.

As her mind cleared, she sat up. She realized she needed to leave before anyone found her here. If anyone saw her they may tell him. He could never find out. He would never forgive her thinking this was a solution.

Looking at the entry she thought she saw flickering lights and heard possible footsteps. Her heart was racing, she needed to leave. Standing up, she walked to the edge of dais. The entry was still closed, she could slip out unnoticed. As she reached for the door handle she heard the guttural groan. In her panic she had forgotten the person who had appeared from the other side of the veil.

She was torn; intellectual curiosity of returning was pitted against self preservation. The groans were getting louder, if she left him/her would someone else find him/her? And if so, would he/she remember her being here? She needed the person to stop making noise or someone was going to find them.

There was no easy way out of this. If she left, someone would eventually find the bag of bones and possibly interrogate him/her. The bag might remember she had been her and then her secret would be out.

She could not be associated with this, she needed to leave unnoticed. She would have to take the person with her and figure the rest out at home. Resolutely, she walked back to the center of the room and standing next to groaning body, gently pushed it over on to its back.

Her initial shock was replaced in quick succession by gratitude, disbelief, and finally awe. The eyes opened and staring at her in a weak half-groan whisper said, "Hermione?"

Her reply was also whispered, "Sirius?"

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_Thanks for reading._

_Deaudle_


	2. Chapter 2

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

_This is not a true Hermione & Sirius story. _

_It is more of a Hermione & Harry & Sirius story, but that wasn't an option on the story description. _

_I don't they will all end up is a puppy pile but who knows._

"Sirius, we need to leave here. We can sort out the whys and the hows later." Hermione's voice was tinged with panic. "Please Sirius standup. It is not safe for me here. Someone will find us and then they'll tell him!"

Hermione was pulling at the rags covering Sirius' shoulder; her face was a contorted mask of fear and pain.

With a monumental effort Sirius was able to stand and hobble towards entrance with Hermione supporting the majority of his weight. As they approached the door the sound of multiple footsteps and muffled voices got clearer.

"I'm sure I would have noticed if Ms. Granger had come this way Mr. Potter. I received the memo you sent about keeping an eye out for her. It, I mean, it seems a shame all that has happened. She has lost so much and had been different since, well you know, since the accident."

Pain was palpable in the voice that responded, "I think I know Ms. Granger better than you! She has been a significant part of my life." Pausing for a minute the voice continued, this time calmer, "I know if she wanted to slip by you undetected she could. Please just get this door open!"

Hermione could just make out the mutterings, "I am afraid of what she might do." Looking Sirius she realized he had heard everything. Pleading without saying a word he nodded. Hermione spotted a scrap of parchment wedge beneath the stone pillar. Offering an edge to Sirius, Hermione silently created a portkey.

The door handle moved just as Hermione felt the familiar tug.

The hoarse voice startled Hermione out of her dazed state. The portkey had brought them to the living room of Hermione's flat. Sirius immediately staggered to the sofa and sat, holding his head in his hands. Hermione began to pace, the rectangle rug that stretched from the fireplace to behind the sofa. Fifteen steps long by ten steps wide, Sirius counted as she paced.

Pacing was Hermione's coping mechanism. When her thoughts were scattered and she had trouble focusing, she paced. The last hour of her life had made everything much more complicated. The simple solution no longer existed. Fifteen steps left turn, ten steps, left turn, the patterns continued while her thoughts swirled.

Sirius began to notice her surroundings. There was a sofa, a fireplace, what appeared to be a kitchen off to the left. Looking to the right was a dimly lit hallway and three doors; one on either side of the hall and one at the end. What caught his attention was the number of books. They were everywhere, in stacks, in piles, holding up lamps and crammed into bookcases that lined every wall. Mixed in with the titles were pictures. Sirius recognized faces and places, but some were unfamiliar. The gold framed picture of Hermione, Ron, Harry, & Ginny holding scrolls made him wonder what year it was. On the mantle of the fireplace were pictures of Hermione and a very tall Ron Weasley. Also scattered amongst those was a picture that made him smile. It was a picture of his godson, Harry and a blushing bride, Ginny Weasley. Sirius realized he had been gone a very long time.

Just as he made that realization, Hermione stopped pacing and stared at him. She looked down at her hands as they cradled her flat stomach and then looked back up a Sirius. She took a step toward him when a rattle came from the small foyer next to the kitchen. Hermione froze.

Sirius recognized the voice. "Hermione I know you are home. You've locked me out and shut off your floo. You know I'll eventually get through your wards." The door knob rattled again. "Please, little one let me in. I just want to see you, check that you are okay. I won't ask for anything else."

Hermione's hands fluttered down from her temples back to her abdomen as she looked at Sirius.

"I won't pretend to understand what is going on here, but I think it might be best if you answer the door Hermione. Is there a spare room, or better yet a loo?" Sirius managed to standup and looked pointedly down the hallway.

Hermione nodded, "The loo is on the left." Sirius shuffled toward the door as she straightened her shoulders and walked to the front door.

"Hermione," bellowed from the other side of the door, "so help me if you don't open this door…" just as Hermione opened the door for Harry.

Pushing past Hermione, Harry raced into the flat. "Don't you understand? I just wanted to see that you were alright, I am responsible for you!"

Hermione's head snapped up from looking at her hands and slammed the front door. "Harry Potter," her voice was low and a near growl, "you are only responsible for you loving wife! I am not your wife, sister, or daughter! I'm your friend not your chattel. I can take care of myself."

Harry turned and strode up to her grabbing her upper arms giving them a slight shake. His voice was laced with sarcasm, "Right, like you took care of yourself five months ago! Like you took care of yourself when I found you almost unconscious in a bathtub of bloody water with your wrist slit? Is that how you take care of yourself? That is why I am responsible for you."

Hermione gave a small gasp and was shaking when she whispered, "You promised you would never mention that, I told you at the time it the wineglass slipped and I am iffy at healing charms sober let alone after three or four glasses." Hermione's eyes met Harry's and as tears coursed down her cheeks, she sobbed, "I trusted you."

Pulling away from Harry's grasp, Hermione wiped the tears from her face as she stepped back a little. Composing herself, Hermione found her strength, "Harry, please don't mention that again. It is over and I will always be beholden to you and your quick thinking."

"Now," she continued, "you can see I am perfectly fine and there s no reason for you to worry. Shouldn't you be at the Potter's Masquerade Ball? I've heard Ginny has outdone herself this year. At least that was what Rita wrote about all week."

Harry sighed and looked at the fireplace, "It is ridiculous. I don't know anybody there besides the Weasleys and most of them I won't speak to."

Hermione shook her head and took a step closer to her friend, "I am so sorry that you are stuck in the middle of the mess. I never wanted that for you."

Harry gave her a sad smile, "They are fools. I still can't believe how they have treated you. It is shameful."

Hermione sat down and patted the cushion next to her for Harry to join her. "Part of me can understand, they think Ron's death is my fault. A small part of me agrees," she stopped when Harry gave a glare. "Only a very small part Harry, "she continued," if I had said yes earlier maybe the accident wouldn't happen. But, I know I can't change anything now." Hermione knocked her shoulder into Harry's, "I know I'll never have what I had with Ron. We were the other half of each other for years. However, thanks to my dear, dear friend, yes you Potter, I remembered being happy and want to wake up in the morning."

Sirius could hear every word being said and it gave him a great deal to think about as he sat on the edge of the tub. The fact that Ron had died was a shock and Harry's animosity toward the Weasleys was surprising. What he knew of Hermione, the idea of suicide seemed absurd. The more he heard the more questions he had.

_I was thrilled anyone read Chapter 1 _

_And_

_I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2. _

_Deaudle_


	3. Chapter 3

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

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_Some answers and a need for clean!_

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Hermione was bone weary and needed time to think. "Harry, please as much as I appreciate your concern, it's late and I'm exhausted. If you wouldn't mind?"

Harry wasn't listening; he was looking around the apartment. "You weren't asleep were you? You are still dressed. Why did it take you so long to answer the door?"

Hermione tried not to look him in the eye. She wasn't a very convincing liar with out a great deal of preparation. Harry would be able to read her like a book if she tried a bold face lie. Her only option was the truth. "Actually Harry, this is awkward," she mumbled as she stepped away from him and towards the hallway. A little more forcefully she started again, "well you see I'm not alone."

Harry looked at her as if she had three heads and quickly stepping closer to close the gap between them he asked, "What?"

Hermione cringed slightly at the angry tone of his voice when he repeated his question, "what? You're lying!"

Hermione stepped back further at the unexpected response, "How dare you," she hissed. "I don't need your permission to live my life!"

Harry laughed a cruel and spiteful laugh, "Yeah, right you expect me to believe you have a bloke in there. Gotten over Ron and ready for a quick shag to ring in the New Year have you? I guess I was just a stepping stone to this life you want to live!"

Sirius could clearly hear the vicious of Harry's comment and started to open the door, but he wasn't ready to step completely back into that world. He wanted to understand what had happened before he approached his godson. Hearing Harry's heavy footsteps approaching the door, Sirius turned the doorknob, cracked the door open, and yelled, "Love, where do you keep the towels? I'm going to hop into the shower."

Hermione was thankful for the diversion and answered, "Cabinet under the sink!"

Harry turned and stared at Hermione, speechless.

Hermione gave him a sad smile, "Its okay, you're sorry, and you were only looking out for me. You feel responsible for me I get it, I really do. But, Harry, you have a life, a wife. I am going to try and have a life too."

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she stepped closer pulling his forehead to her, she whispered, "Wish me luck?"

Harry nodded and gently kissed her lips. As she tried to pull away, he pulled her closer his hands smoothing down her back cupping her bottom.

Hermione's hands lovingly pulled Harry's face away. "No, we can't. This is not us alone in the woods or us being thankful for finding me in time. This is the real world, you know I love you and always will but, you have a wife."

Harry nodded, "I'm sorry. I was way out of line, I just miss you so much and everything is so complicated." Walking towards the front door, both Harry and Hermione were silent. As he turned the knob and stepped back to swing the door inward, Harry turned and looked at her again. "It is just that being with you is being home. I know we have talked about this back then and we agreed that we couldn't hurt the. I know we both tried to make them happy, but despite everything I just want to be home." He then left.

Hermione watched the door close and slowly sunk to the floor, the wall supporting her slide down. She let out a small gasp, she was terrified. Harry was not an idiot, he would eventually figure things out and then he would be angry.

Sirius had never turned on the water. He had heard the entire conversation. Of everything that he knew in this new world to be fact, he knew his godson was in love with Hermione. He knew his godson was married to someone else, he thought it was Ginny Weasley. He also knew that Harry and Hermione had slept together more than once. He suspected that Hermione was pregnant with Harry's child.

Sirius also was fairly certain that not enough time had passed for the Wizarding World to change its attitude and laws concerning the illegitimate offspring and unwed mothers. Adultery was often ignored by wives unless evidence was thrown in their respective faces. Antiquated laws allowed scorned wives to sue for the custody of their philandering husband's offspring. The well being of the child was not often considered. The ministry only stepped in if enough complaints were made and that rarely happened. The unfortunate witch was all but branded a whore and shunned by society. Sirius didn't know what Hermione's plans were but the future was grim.

Walking out of the bathroom Sirius saw the heaving shoulders of a terrified woman sitting near the front door. His steps announced his presence, but Hermione didn't look up. Sirius' voice was still raspy from lack of use, "You could say the baby is mine."

"What did you say?" Hermione struggled to stand up.

Offering her his hand, Sirius repeated his offer, "I said you could say the baby is mine."

Hermione shuttered and continued to stare at the man as if he was insane. She followed him as he walked to the sofa and sat down. Hermione stepped next to him and joined him on the sofa. She stuttered, "I don't know what you mean."

Sirius took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze, "I have never been stupid Hermione, fool hardy perhaps, but never stupid."

"How could you possibly have guessed?" she whispered.

Sirius smiled a tired, weary, knowledgeable smile, "I only suspected at first. You are constantly touching and rubbing your abdomen, as if to reassure yourself or to comfort yourself. But, the conversation I just overheard with my godson clinched it."

"No one else knows." She sighed.

"Tell me about Ron," Sirius pointed to the pictures on the mantle, "could the baby be his?"

Hermione let out a small sob, "No, I wish though. Ron's accident was a couple of months before." Once she started talking Hermione didn't want to stop so she continued, "We wanted children you know. We had been together since the end of war. We slipped up during our last year at school and did get pregnant. Neither of us were too happy about what we called our "OOPS" but we knew we would figure it out."

Sirius prodded once she fell quite, "What happened?"

Hermione looked at him and shrugged her shoulders, "It was an accident; I tripped on the staircase and fell. I miscarried at the end of the first trimester. We always figured it would happen again once we were ready. We finished school, I went to university and Ron played professional Quidditch. He kept asking me to marry him but I told him that I wanted to wait until we had to. It was our joke nobody understood but we did."

Hermione wiped a couple of stray tears and gave a little sad laugh, "three years of trying with Ron and no baby, one stupid but wonderful night with Harry and I'm pregnant."

Sirius chuckled, "What did you do to piss off fate so bad?"

Hermione laughed and more tears poured down her face, "I don't know!" In a effort to put a halt to the tears she sniffed a couple of times the last being directed to Sirius. "Did you say you were going to take a shower?"

Sirius laughed, "Do I smell that bad?"

Hermione held her nose and nodded. Sirius looked around the flat for some kind of indication of 'when' he was. Not finding one he asked," How long?"

Hermione looked puzzled, "How long what?"

"How long have I been gone?" Sirius asked.

Hermione dropped her hands into her lap and played with her fingers as she mentally composed her answer. "Well, the fight in the Department of Mysteries was in our fifth year, and then we fought and destroyed Riddle in what should have been our seventh year. Add an extra year for the seventh year re-do, four years for university, and I graduated three years ago I guess about ten years."

Sirius took a deep breath, "Ten years?"

Hermione nodded, "Which means you probably could really use that shower!"

_The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._

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_I wanted the characters to be older, not teenagers making life changing decisions._

_Hopefully, it is not too much of a stretch._

_. . . . . . . . . . .hsh._


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